Best of Both Worlds
This year, Ramadan started with a bowl of oatmeal chock-full of blueberries and walnuts My 13-year old daughter Saanya woke up early to set the table and hang “Happy Ramadan” signs around the house while my 7-year old son Zayd was excited to have a chance to play with his cousins while it was still dark outside. We gathered around the kitchen table – Mom and Dad, my brother and sister-in-law, my children and nephews – barely awake but palpably excited. My nephew chanted the adhan, calling us to prayer. Saanya and Zayd spread a white sheet on the floor and we all stood – shoulder-to-shoulder and waist-to head – three generations embarking on a journey that affirms identity, binds families and reinforces traditions.
That day the children prayed together, played Nintendo and listened to Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits. The boys broke their half-day fast with chicken nuggets and a box of juice. Saanya helped prepare the evening meal while listening to memories of Ramadans long ago – how her grandmother, teaching her to make rice pudding, never used half-and- half to prepare it because they had fresh milk straight from the cow, and how her grandfather’s favorite suhur (pre-dawn meal) was parathas stuffed with ground beef, not cinnamon French toast. Our first fast ended with entertainment – three mini Michael Jacksons with gelled hair and white mittens dancing to Thriller. Not the typical end of a day of fasting – but a blend of East and West, of tradition and modernity, of old and young – of two cultures blending together and finding its own particular hue.
The Bicultural Balance
Many people choose to avoid any form of biculturalism, preferring to live in distinct enclaves that are almost mirror images of the ethnic communities from which they came. Others shed cultural and religious traditions in their efforts to integrate. These may be easier choices with clearer markers; however, most families are balancing cultural and religious traditions as part of a rich American experience. Raising well-adjusted, bicultural children is one of the biggest challenges Muslim American parents face today. So many families from various religious and ethnic backgrounds are grappling with this same issue, that the proportion of children who are ethnically or racially diverse will rise above 50 percent before 2040, according to the US Census Bureau.
In many respects, the parenting challenges my mother and father faced as new immigrants were more straightforward than those my husband and I face today. They were guided by a cultural and religious compass set by their upbringing in a uniformly Muslim, predominantly Pakistani, society and created their own little Pakistan in the United States. My husband and I, on the other hand, have spent most of our lives in Europe and the United States. We have traveled around the world, have friends from every part of the globe and we eat Italian, Thai, or Malaysian food as frequently as we do Pakistani. Raising children today is not as clear-cut as it was for our parents. Kamran Khan, a father of two, explains it this way, “Our parents grew up in an environment with an operating manual. Everyone knew the rules, and generally played by them. When you enter a multicultural setting, it’s not so clear. You have to make adjustments.”
Our children certainly have experienced multicultural settings. Saanya, born in Switzerland, has lived on three continents. She’s on the swim and tennis teams, loves drama and dance, and can’t wait to see Taylor Swift in concert. Zayd, born in Houston, Texas, knows more words in Spanish than in Urdu, prefers macaroni and cheese to chicken curry, and until recently still wondered why Santa didn’t visit our house. My husband Arif, who spent time in a dozen countries growing up, says, “Raising multicultural kids is as much about making sure that they appreciate other cultures and values, as it is about being confident of their own. It’s not possible to be multicultural in isolation.” How comfortable our children feel with their blended identities depends in large part on how at ease we feel, says Shazma Matin, a mother of three bicultural daughters. She volunteers at her children’s schools, lifts weights at the community center and hosts fundraising events for local politicians. “Ordinary interactions, like coaching your child’s sports team or visiting a sick neighbor or inviting colleagues to your home for dinner, are what leave the greatest impression. People get to know you as neighbors and friends. And our children get to see that being American and being Muslim are not two distinct identities.” The quest for bicultural balance is by no means easy. It requires a conscious commitment and constant vigilance, not only with our children but with ourselves as well. By blending certain ingredients – faith, tradition, family, heritage and communication – we pray our children will develop their own sense of being confident, compassionate, dynamic American Muslims.
A Foundation in Faith
Saanya and Zayd have attended Islamic Sunday School from a young age. Just 10 minutes from our home in the Washington DC suburbs, our Sunday School is a warm, nurturing, inviting, eclectic mix of Egyptians, Afghanis, Indians, Pakistanis, Indonesians and Americans. Everyone is welcome; no one is judged. The kids hear stories of the prophets and learn surahs; in the higher grades, they discuss Islam in the context of current events and issues relevant to their daily lives. They break for pizza and end by praying with teachers and parents before charging off to soccer practice, piano lessons or homework. The school provides, not only religious education, but also a social network for our children. Saanya says, “It feels safe. I can talk about things openly, and it’s comforting to know that my friends are in the same boat.” Once a week, a Qur’an teacher comes to our home. A warm and friendly woman who grew up in Syria, she uses an interactive approach the children like. Saanya pauses every few sentences to ask questions and understand what she has just read. It’s a very different approach from the way I learned to read the Qur’an, under the stern gaze of a long-bearded teacher.
An American Muslim Identity
In a post 9/11 environment, it is important for our children to understand what it means to be American Muslims. As parents weoften brace for questions during school presentations about Islam and terrorism; we fear our children’s classmates may associate them with Muslim extremists; we feel obligated to counter the images our neighbors see on television. “When the only reference to your religion in the media is negative, you cannot avoid being affected,” says Saima Siddiqui, a mother of tweens. “This is a burden our kids have that we did not.” On the other hand, the focus on Islam can help our children learn more about their faith. Yasmeen Abutaleb a young Egyptian college student, wrote an essay about the impact of 9/11 on her identity. She says, “My classmates had never taken much interest in my religion before, other than wanting to understand what compelled me to fast for 30 days. But after 9/11, I received skeptical looks and alarming questions; a boy even wanted to know if my family or anyone I knew was affiliated with the attacks. How could anyone think I could be linked to such an atrocious act?” As the only Muslim in her class, she explains how she felt vulnerable. Her first reaction was to hide. Instead, armed with information, she engaged her peers in dialogue about Islam. “Even though I grew up having to worry about more than acne, boys and peer pressure, these experiences helped me develop my confidence and deepen my understanding of Islam,” she writes in her college essay.
Traditions and Holidays
Respecting customs, building traditions, and celebrating holidays is in part how my husband and I are developing a bicultural identity in our children. Ramadan and Eid are big at our house with traditions our kids look forward to – baking moon- and star-shaped cookies by the hundreds to pass out to neighbors, friends and teachers, writing in a gratitude journal every evening after iftaar, and Eid celebrations with henna, presents and crafts. Every Ramadan I speak to my children’s classes about our holidays. The kids in my son’s class now anticipate the presentations and love goody bags filled with Eid pencils, stickers and cookies. At first, Zayd felt shy wearing his kurta pajama to school. But when his classmates called him “Prince Ali,” he felt proud and excited. Now he reads stories, like 'Night of the Moon' or 'A Party in Ramadan' to his classmates. One year, Saima used Oreo cookies and asked her son’s kindergarten class to carefully lick the white cream to show the changing phases of the moon!
Other parents with bicultural children expose them to religious and cultural traditions in various ways. Some take their children ‘back home’ each year and immerse them in the language and customs of their countries. Others socialize with families from their countries of origin so children develop a social and support network, while some provide a familiar cultural home environment. “I insist on making Pakistani food on the weekends,” says Sophia Siddiqui, a mother of three young children. “It would be much easier to order pizza, but it’s important that my kids develop a taste for the foods I grew up with. Now they request it themselves.” Her home is filled with furniture from Pakistan – beautifully carved wooden desks and embroidered cushions and handicrafts; she plays qawwali music at home and reads Urdu poetry to her kids. “Whatever you grow up with, the things you’re surrounded by, you feel comfortable around. It becomes familiar.” For Sophia, saying fajr prayers with her children is one way she’s hoping to develop a family tradition. “I don’t care if the kids are late for school or I’m late for work. Hopefully they will grow to appreciate what this brings to their day. It will become part of their routine, a part of their life, a part of who they are.” In other families, the evening meal brings families together, to “check everyone’s temperature,” as Sherin Ghafir, an Egyptian mother puts it. “Even when they were babies, I would pull the high chair to the table so we could sit together as a family. Now that they’re older, it’s more important than ever. After all, they’ve been living within the American culture all day long; you want to touch base, take their temperature, hear what’s on their mind.”
Family Matters
Raising children with family around is a blessing. We have 21 members of our immediate family within driving distance of our home, so it is the hub for special occasions and casual drop-ins. During family times our children absorb cultural mores not easily explained, like the respect for grandparents and elders. When family come to visit, our children know they must stop whatever they are doing to greet them at the door with “As salaamu ‘alaykum” and sit and talk with them respectfully. Our family, with its variety of ages, wisdom and life experiences, provides my husband and me with a tremendous safety net. For our children, they provide safe counsel, strong shoulders, a sense of humor, and a feeling of belonging. My brother and sister-in-law and my cousins are excellent role models; they relate to our children as older brothers and sisters, dropping by often to help with homework, take them to a movie or just chat. The bonds are tight.
History and Heritage
It’s during these family visits our children learn about their heritage – about their great grandmother and her legendary biryani; about their great grandfather, once the mayor of Calcutta, who marched alongside Mahatma Gandhi in the struggle for India’s freedom; about their grandparents who survived three civil wars, lived in more than a dozen countries, and finally made America their home. Zayd’s favorite bedtime stories are not found on his bookshelf, but in my father’s memories. Zayd loves to listen, over and over, to how my father would ride the tram all across Calcutta with his friends on Eid because it was free that day; or how he convinced the owner of a violin school to let him practice for two hours every morning, because he couldn’t afford lessons. My mother-in-law recently found a cassette that her mother had recorded of her memories of their ancestral home. She played it for Saanya and Zayd. Now, she’s making a tape for her grandchildren, sharing her own stories, experiences and wisdom. Such stories, rich in history and meaning, create a link from generations past to our children’s present. They provide children with the history of their character and the relevance of their ancestry to their aspirations.
Constant Communication
For parents helping bicultural children navigate the teenage years, one word is paramount: communication – open, early and constant. Communication can’t start when kids become teenagers. It has to be part of the ongoing relationship, so it becomes familiar and natural. “When you start talking to your kids from a young age and listening to their stories about school and friends, you can help them understand situations and shape their views without dictating,” says Hanan Elbakry, a mother of three teenagers. “You’ll hear a lot of boring stories,” she laughs. “But you never know when they’ll say something that requires your attention. You have to be there to catch it.”
Giving children options is another helpful tool. “This prevents them from going through the back door,” adds Hanan. Sherin concurs and recounts a recent conversation with her daughter about the homecoming dance. “My daughter understood that she wouldn’t be allowed to go to homecoming with a date, but I said she could go with her girlfriends. She knew she couldn’t go to the after-party, but going to the parent organized dinner with chaperones was fine. It can’t be all or nothing.” Another mother, principal of our Sunday School, Mariam Osman, puts it this way, “You can’t always say, ‘no, God doesn’t want you to do this.’ Sometimes you have to say, ‘yes, God wants’…” She recounts the story of one mother who took her teenage daughters to Victoria’s Secret. They selected beautiful items together, then came home and tucked them away for when they get married.
The negotiation at our house recently involved texting. When Saanya got a cell phone on her 13th birthday, she wasn’t allowed to text. This year, as an Eid present, we gave her the privilege of texting family and her Muslim girl friends. She’s thrilled to be able to experience a common teenage activity. We’re happy she’s building stronger bonds with her cousins and her Sunday School friends.
Open-minded parenting can be effective, especially for very religious parents. Hanan credits her open parenting style to that of her parents. Her father was a hafiz; her mother, a professor of linguistics and Arabic. They knew their faith, as well as the reality of teenage life. “My parents didn’t dictate what was haram and halal,” she says. “We weren’t afraid to ask them anything.” Now raising teenagers, she understands what a sacrifice her parents made. “I’m sure letting me study in a coed group went against their sensibilities, but they allowed it. It’s a responsibility that works both ways. I let them know where I was and who I was with. It’s a question of mutual trust.” Dr. Khalida Zaman, a psychiatrist practicing in upstate New York and a mother of three well-adjusted young adults, says that ultimately it’s important for kids to know how to make good decisions. “Giving them the tools to decipher situations will help them more than just sheltering them from uncomfortable events.”
Core Values
When raising bicultural children, there are no easy answers, no right approaches. Each family decides their parameters based on their own values and priorities. “You can’t raise your children based on other people’s principles or other families’ experiences,” says Kamran. “The nature of the adjustments is highly personal; it’s customized based on who you are, who your partner is, who your kids are.” Raising well-adjusted, bicultural children is a constant balancing act that takes an open mind, a conscious effort, a sense of humor and many blessings. It involves knowing our core values, and having confidence to adjust them without losing their essence. It means being comfortable in our own skin as American Muslim parents, and letting our actions and attitudes speak to our kids. It requires remaining relevant to our bicultural children, listening to their thoughts and also letting their experiences inform us.